


Inverted

by alecdvnpt



Category: Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare, Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-24
Updated: 2013-10-27
Packaged: 2018-01-08 07:58:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1130207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alecdvnpt/pseuds/alecdvnpt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The world seemed a little more bearable upside down, or so Alec thought, until Magnus comes to him and their situation begins to reverse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"Four-" Alec breathed hard as he lifted himself. "Hundred." His body relaxed and he let himself fall, wincing slightly when the chain attached to his ankle brace stretched taught and he began to oscillate, hanging upside from the ceiling, about the training room.

"Can you get yourself down from there, or do I need to climb up after you?"

"I'll manage," Alec replied through heavy breathing. He folded himself and reached for the brace around his feet when his abdominal muscles screamed and he fell back with a groan. "Eventually." Drenched with sweat, he looked down to a grinning Jace who was half sitting up, half sprawled on the floor.

"Yell when all the blood gets to your head," Jace said with a laugh before taking out a dagger from his boot and haphazardly threw it dead centre into the target on the far end of the room, next to the door. He smiled proudly and then fished out an apple from his pocket.

The door to the training room burst open and Isabelle flew in dressed in a short, dark maroon camisole dress. Her hair was lightly curled up into a high ponytail. The clicks of her heels against the hard floor coupled with the incredulous look on her face made both men wince inwardly as they presented her with innocent smiles. She stared at them for a second and then threw up her hands in exasperation.

Alec sighed as he continued to swing upside down; he'd forgotten about the gathering his parents were hosting, and as the eldest Lightwood, he was expected to attend.

"Why aren't you both ready yet?" Isabelle asked, eyes darted angrily between Jace, who was still on the floor nonchalantly staring at his apple, and her brother who was swinging by his feet on the ceiling. "And what are you  _doing_ up there?" She paused for a moment. " _How_  did you get up there?"

Jace raised his hand and grinned. "I helped."

Izzy made an exasperated sound and turned around, marching to wards the board by the door. Removing one of Jace's daggers, she expertly began to twirl it about her fingers, her eyes locked on Alec.

Alec's eyes widened in realisation and he held up his hands, as if to stop her, though from his position, there was little he could have done. "Izzy, wai-"

Too late. Isabelle flicked her hand with ease all three watched as the dagger sailed smoothly through the air, cutting clean through the chain that held Alec to the ceiling, and embedded itself into the ceiling with a thud.

With a yelp, Alec fell. He twisted his body - hard - and tucked his feet into a double flip, landing gracefully onto the soft mat below with a dull thud. Letting go of the breath he'd been holding, he fell back onto the floor with a sigh.

"Like a cat," Jace laughed amusedly.

Isabelle glared at them both. "Get dressed, please?  _Now_."

Alec did his part without complaint, dutifully following his parents as they snaked around the room. After a few introductions here, a sarcastic laugh there, he was ready to be hung by his feet from the ceiling and have them all go at him like a piñata. With an excuse of getting something to drink, he managed to slip away, picking up a glass of a pale green ale without a second look and made a beeline for the window around the corner that was largely hidden from the crowd.

Leaning his back against the wall, he gingerly took a swig and made a face; Magnus was fond of sweet wines and he'd become used to drinking them on occasion. This, on the other hand, tasted like wet road with a touch of honey. Alec closed his eyes and sighed as he sent a silent prayer up to heaven, hoping he could go the rest of the evening without having to force another smile, or better yet slip away to continue his training; the world seemed a little more bearable upside down.

"Alec? Alec Lightwood?" said a male voice.

Alec opened his eyes to a set of round chocolate brown eyes framed by a full head of curly blonde hair. The boy didn't seem any older that he was, and was dressed in a dark jacket and blue jeans. "Umm, hi." Alec said, straightening himself and thrusting out his hand.

The blonde boy smiled as he shook his hand. "Steven Hardwood, your mother said I'd find you around here," he said.

The name completely unknown to him, Alec smiled warily as his eyes darted back to the main congregation. "I was just…looking for some quiet," he said sheepishly, silently wondering why he was attempting to justify himself to this person.

"So was I," Steven said as he gestured around Alec's quiet corner. "Seems like a good spot."

"It's big enough to share," Alec said with a nod. "I guess I'm not the only one forced to be here.

Steven laughed. "It's like conscription," he said. "My brother's probably prowling around for a hole to hide in, too."

"You're from London, aren't you?" Alec asked, noticing the accent for the first time. He leaned back and slid down the wall to a crouch.

Steven sat down beside Alec and grinned. "We live near the Institute in London. Quite the way to go just for a party, isn't it?"

Alec nodded.

"Father says that in these perilous times, one must be seen well and often in the hopes that someone would notice if you go missing," Steven said in a heavy english accent, which Alec thought was likely in imitation. "It's inconvenient," he said, his voice returning to normal. "But at least the company isn't bad."

Alec laughed dryly as his eyes followed the veins in the marble stone floor. "I'm not very good company, trust me." Wondering if Steven would stay or leave, he almost jumped out of his skin when he felt Steven's hand squeezing his upper arm.

"You're not that bad," Steven replied. "I had a date once that literally turned into a rock."

His eyes remained fixed on the contact, a sense of conflict churning within him for reasons he didn't know - it wasn't the first time someone had touched his arm. "Uh, thanks," he stammered. He looked at Steven who was smiling back at him and he found himself staring back. Steven wasn't as stunningly attractive as Magnus, but he was handsome with his curly sandy blonde hair, and he was, for lack of a better word, comfortable.

Sensing a little apprehension in Alec, Steven's smile faltered. "Are you okay?"

Alec was still staring, a stream of thoughts running through his mind at once that he felt completely blank. He was aware of the hand still lingering on his arm and it gave him goosebumps. Mentally shaking himself, he moved his arm away and stared at the floor. "I'm…fine."

"You're gay, aren't you?"

"Wha-" Alec's eyes widened in alarm as he turned to Steven, who had turned a shade of green.

"I-I'm sorry, that kind of just came out," Steven stammered in embarrassment. "You were staring at me and I kind of thought.."

Alec shook his head leaned back to stare at the sword that hung perilously above him. "It's okay. I should be used to it by now."

"No." Steven's hand was on Alec's shoulder for a second before he pulled it away. "Sorry," he said sheepishly. "I'm alright with it. Actually it's kind of flattering having a gay bloke be into you. Makes you feel like a sex symbol - like George Clooney. It's fun."

Alec blinked twice. "Who?"

"Sorry," Steven replied sheepishly. "I like to watch bad mundane movies."

"And I never said I was into you," Alec pointed out.

Steven shrugged. "Still, don't spoil my fun - it's the most I've had all night," he quipped, and Alec genuinely laughed.

As they began to talk, Alec found himself beginning to relax and even found Steven to be comfortable - he felt like he could be himself around Steven, a little like he did when he was with Isabelle and Magnus. He didn't even feel that way around Jace. He relished this newfound ease. Steven, he found, was the younger of two boys, had a passion for mundane pop music and was proficient in his use of twin daggers, which he kept on his person at all times.

They had laughed and shared stories of their demon-hunting exploits when the sound of footsteps made Alec turn his head. The ease and comfort of his evening melted away into anxiety as his body tensed. Green-gold cat-like eyes peered down at him, all Alec could do was stare blankly back at the tall figure towering over him that was Magnus Bane.

"May I have a word," Magnus asked, his voice kind. He looked at Steven for a moment as Alec scrambled to his feet, and then smiled. "If you'd excuse us."

Mentally shaking himself, Alec apologised briefly to Steven and made his way through the crowd, knowing Magnus was on his tail, and out through double doors into the empty hallway. Hearing the door close behind him, he kept walking, turning right to climb a set of stairs and then stopped. He turned to face Magnus, who kept his distance, and was staring right back at him. Dressed in a well tailored grey suit and a bright purple scarf around his neck, Magnus, at least to him, didn't look well; there were dark circles under his eyes and there was something intangible he couldn't put his finger on - Magnus looked tired.

"Who was that?" Magnus asked. His voice betrayed no emotions but Alec couldn't help but pretend that it was out of jealousy.

"Steven," Alec replied brusquely. "He's visiting from London."

"You're angry with me." Magnus was blunt as his eyes softened.

 _I wish I was angry at you_ , Alec thought. He ought to have been after the emotional turmoil Magnus had put him through, but the worst thing was that he wasn't, no matter how much easier it would have been. Alec took a deep breath and lied: "Yes-" was all he could get out before he found himself pinned to the wall in between two suit of armours. Magnus was kissing him - hard, and he froze for a second before, as if someone had flicked a switch within him, he found himself kissing the warlock back with fervour. He let himself go, releasing the pent up emotion he'd learned to ignore for so long - like opening flood gates he knew he wouldn't be able to close again. He heard himself groan loudly and shoved Magnus back with his hands, pinning the slightly taller man against the far wall and then kissed him, almost angrily, his fingers grabbing a fistful of Magnus' shirt. Magnus groaned low in his throat and Alec felt like he'd won the battle.

As their hands roamed each other's body, Alec ignored the small voice in his mind that told him that this was wrong - that he deserved to be treated better, with respect and the rest of the nonsense that Isabelle had prattled on about. Sure, she had been talking about Simon, but he felt entitled.  _You're better than this,_ he told himself, over and over, and then Magnus pulled him close and his brain cleared the slate.

He didn't know how long they stood together on the landing, but eventually the small voice won out and he found himself pushing Magnus away. Alec took in Magnus' flush face and swollen lips and resisted the animalistic urge to pin him back against the wall. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He looked at Magnus, who took a step towards him, and he took an equal step back. "I can't," he whispered.

"Alec.."

"I can't go through this again, Magnus," Alec replied and he turned around, bounding down the stairs two at a time, down the hallway to the main entrance. He closed his eyes as he pushed the doors open and stepped out into the brisk night air, the memory of Magnus' face as he turned away seared in his memory; a look of crushed sorrow that he'd never seen on Magnus' face. Worse was the tiniest part of him that relished the pain he had inflicted. With guilt on his conscience, he began to walk.

From the second-floor window, Magnus watched, a hand steadily against his pounding chest, as Alec passed the iron gates and into the city. _  
_


	2. Chapter 2

He had walked without clear direction for hours until he found himself staring at the large, black iron doors of the New York Institute.  _All roads lead home,_  he mused,  _or was it to Rome?_ The sky was still dark but the slightest of gold had begun to tint the horizon, signalling the coming of dawn. With a deep breath, Alec pushed the doors open and made his way in. As his eyes quickly adjusted to the lighting, he froze at the sight that greeted him: sprawled on the bottom step of the large staircase was Jace with a book titled, ' _Demon Pox: Maladies and Remedies_ ', in his hand.

"Would you close the door? It's a little draughty," Jace said, as he turned a page. His eyes flicked over the top of the book to Alec and then back.

"What are you doing up?" Alec asked as he closed the doors with ease. "And I thought you only read about weapons and war."

"And demons," Jace said, waiving the book about him before he continued reading. They settled into silence for a moment, Alec remaining by the door, until Jace heard a sigh and he settled his gaze on his  _parabatai_ , who was now sitting on the floor with his back against the wall, his eyes closed and his long legs jutting out before him. "How was your midnight stroll?" he asked in a tone that feigned disinterest.

Alec opened his eyes.  _That's why he's up_ , he realised, recalling all the nights he'd spent awake when Jace went on his 'walks'. "Is that why you're up? To make sure I got back safe and sound?"

Jace shrugged. "I don't know you do it," he said as he rolled his shoulders and massaged his neck. "I do this once and I think my head is going to fall off."

"No one asked you to sit there," Alec pointed out. "There's a perfectly good couch in the other room."

Jace seemed to ponder the thought with chagrin. "I didn't think this through," he said and they laughed, leading to another stretch of silence. "He's still here, you know," Jace said finally.

Alec blinked and furrowed his brows. "Who?"

"Who else?"

Alec's eyes quickly shifted to the top of the stairs, even though he knew there was no one there. Inside, he felt an invisible hand grasp his heart. "Why?"

Jace shut his book loudly, the sound echoing across the marble floor and gave his friend a look that clearly said,  _did you really just ask me that?_. "Why else?"

"Jace…" Alec began, and broke off, realising that he had nothing to say. Jace, on the other hand, had flipped the book back open.

"He's obviously still in love with you," said Jace, his eyes studying the page and then darting to Alec. "And you do, too, by the looks of it."

"I-"

Jace made an impatient sound. "You love him, he loves you. Do I need to sing you a song?"

"No-I-" Alec stifled a laugh as he got up. In a few short strides, he sagged onto the steps beside Jace with a sigh, leaning the weight of his body against the wall. "Please don't sing, it's still dark out."

Jace responded dramatically with a hand to his injured heart and a look of mock offence. "I have the voice of an angel," he said confidently. "Clary agrees."

"Apparently love is blind  _and deaf_ ," Alec murmured, clutching his side when Jace shut his book and elbowed him sharply. "Ow!"

Twirling the book in hand over and over, Jace's voice became sombre. "He's not going to leave until he talks to you."

"Why do you care so much?" Alec asked. Jace was his  _parabatai,_ and Alec knew that Jace would always have his back, but until now, Jace had never shown any interest in his love life.

"Because," Jace said. "Because of him, you haven't been  _you_."

"I haven't been me?" Alec echoed blankly. "I  _am_  me."

Jace rolled his eyes. "And since when do you suspend yourself from the ceiling for five hours and then stroll out into the moonlight for another six?" he asked pointedly.

Alec narrowed his eyes. "I was training," he said in defence.

"The point of the exercise was to  _escape_ ," Jace pointed out. "Not to do upside down sit-ups until all the blood in your brain stops you from thinking." Jace pulled down the collar of his shirt, exposing the  _parabatai_ rune inked into his skin. "This means that when you're happy, I'm happy," he pointed. "And when you're unhappy, I'm annoyed." Jace looked distant for a second. "Except that one time when you were happy and I was miserable, but I have it on good authority that was because the universe was out of alignment."

Alec stared blankly, and watched as Jace finally got up, as if he'd given up trying to help, and started up the stairs. He stopped a few steps up and turned back to Alec. "I told him to wait in your room."

"My room? Why?"

Jace rolled his eyes again. "Because when you'll inevitably go to see him,  _and you will_ , the bed will be just there."

Alec blinked as his brows crashed into his hairline and he was sure his jaw was slack. "Sex. That's your clever answer to my problem?"

"It's the logical conclusion," Jace said with an innocent shrug. "Like that song about the tree and the kissing that Simon kept blathering about. It's implied."

His next words escaped before Alec could regain control over his mouth. "How do you have sex in a tree?"

Jace pondered the thought for a moment. "Maybe it was a tree house?" he suggested. "Complete with a first aid kit to deal with the inevitable splinters."

They stared at each other with the same serious look that one has when staring off into space, which comes off blank to the people around them. Then they laughed, and Alec found his spirits slightly lifted; it had been a while since he'd genuinely laughed. He waved Jace off and turned to cover his face with his hands. He could hear the gentle creaking of the floorboards from above as Jace made his way up.

Alec sighed. He stood up and slowly began to climb the stairs. What Jace had said was true - he was still in love Magnus. There was no denying that, and his brain in all its complexity and enigma had narrowed his choices down to two: to leave Magnus and be miserable  _now_  with the possibility of moving on with his life, maybe even finding someone else to love; or in the off chance that they could make it work, be happy with the love of his life where he would eventually die and leave the misery behind with Magnus. The second option may have been morbid and a little selfish but that little voice in his head just didn't seem to care; his whole life had been spent looking out for someone else: Isabelle, Max and then Jace. He had always put their interests before his but with Magnus he was selfish; Magnus to him was like a breath of fresh air to life at the Institute, but at the same time, a drug and he was chained.

Before long, Alec found himself reaching the landing to his floor and as he turned the corner, he found his gaze resting on a figure hunched in the corner beside his bedroom door. Magnus had his knees pulled to his chest and was absentmindedly drawing flaming patterns in the air with his fingers, which floated off for a few seconds and then disappeared. Recognising a few letters, it didn't take long for Alec to realise that Magnus had been spelling out his name with a forlorn look on his face.

"That's a fire hazard," Alec said and Magnus' face lit up. Magnus, he decided, looked uncharacteristically bland - instead of the shimmering glitter and bright pants he was used to seeing, the man now standing beside his door, gazing back at him like a distraught child reunited with a lost toy, was decidedly plain.

"I was careful," Magnus replied as Alec stood before him and then turned into his bedroom.

Throwing his closet doors open, Alec began to unbutton his shirt, throwing it into the laundry hamper that was nestled between the closet and the wall, and then shucked off his jeans to pull on a pair dark green sweatpants. Behind the wall partition was a small, aged wash basin - a facet of the Institute's longevity.

"What do you want, Magnus?" Alec asked as he splashed water on his face, glacially staving off the weariness that had begun to spread throughout his body.

"To talk," Magnus replied, closing the bedroom door to lean against it.

Towelling himself dry, Alec sighed and turned to face the warlock. "You could have just called. I tried to call, but-"

Magnus crossed his arms and held himself, almost defensively. "I didn't know what to say."

"And standing in my bedroom helps?"

Magnus' lips twitched into a weak smile. "Maybe," he said. "I spoke with Tessa."

"Tessa Grey?" Alec said, furrowing his brows. He remembered her cloudy grey eyes clearly as he'd handed her his bow, and watched with bewilderment as they turned brilliant blue and he found out what he'd look like if he ever decided to put on a woman's pantsuit.

"She connects with a person when she changes into them," Magnus said.

"So when she turned into me the other day," Alec's voice sounded distant, "she could read my mind."

"More like access your memories," Magnus replied, his eyes following Alec as he moved across the room to perch on the large window sill. "She told me a few things."

"And that's why you're here."

"Alec," Magnus took a step forward. "I made a mistake."

Alec couldn't help but notice the irony as he returned Magnus' own words. "That's like calling the maiden voyage of the Titanic a  _minor_  boating accident," he retorted, a small part of him relishing the hurt that flashed across Magnus' face.

"I deserve that," Magnus replied, his voice quiet and restrained. "When I said you didn't trust me-"

"You were right," Alec said, surprised by the defiance in his voice."And now I trust you even less."

"I know," whispered Magnus. "And therein lies your choice: to give me the chance to earn your trust, or-"

Alec swallowed. "Or?"

"Or," Magnus continued, his voice faltering. "Tell me to leave and you'll never see me again."

Alec stared at Magnus. Two choices - entirely the same as the choices he'd given himself, but that did not make decision to be made any easier. His eyes searched his room, stupidly he thought, in a foolish attempt to find some kind of divine sign; his gaze rested on his bed and Jace's treehouse came back to mind, which was no help at all. Eventually, he found his voice, scratchy and unsure. "I won't go through that again," he whispered and the memory of the coldness that had encased him as he sank to the floor of the subway tunnel caused him to shiver. He turned his body to face Magnus, and pulled his knees to his chest.

"You won't." Magnus' voice was a bare whisper as he closed the gap between them.

Alec looked up into the golden eyes that seemed to peer straight into him. Without further thought, he unfolded himself and leaned in, experimentally, and kissed Magnus. Their lips met, unsure and apprehensive, which soon melted into a gentle dance. Nothing like their previous ardent tango, this was tender and loving - a breath of air after being submerged in an unforgiving sea of heartache.

Eventually, they pulled apart, and for the first time in a long time, Alec could feel the warmth spreading to the tips of his fingers. He smiled.

"I'll take that as your answer," Magnus, and his face lit up as he smiled. He tilted Alec's head up by the chin and their lips met once more. "Alexander, I-"

Alec silenced Magnus with a finger on his lips. His heart still pounding in his chest, the warmth that now surrounded him had begun to make Alec drowsy. Turning his head to the side, he leaned into Magnus, whose arms wrapped around him like a warm blanket on the coldest of nights.

"Sleep," he whispered, noticing the brightening sky through the window. He knew they needed to talk, to straighten their misconceptions, to ease their pain, but he could barely keep his eyes open and talk was the last thing on his mind. "I just want to sleep."

"Okay," Magnus whispered, and like rehearsed choreography, Magnus drew the curtains closed as Alec slipped under the covers on the left side of the bed. Alec hummed appreciatively as he curled onto his side, the warmth of Magnus' body against his back and Magnus' arms, protective, curled around his waist against his chest, and smiled into his pillow as he began to slip into restful slumber.


	3. Chapter 3

By the time Alec woke up, the faint glow of dawn had been replaced by the darkness of night and all too quickly, the day had passed him by. Slowly, he sat up and the emerald-green cotton sheets pooled, almost evocatively, around his waist as he pulled his knees to his chest. The room was dark save for the moonlight creeping in through the large single-paned window and the thin strip of hallway light beneath the door. He turned to the sleeping figure beside him and smiled, captivated by the gentle rise and fall of Magnus' chest. Magnus' quiet breathing was tranquil, like the sounds of waves gently caressing tropical sands on a faraway beach.

Unsure of what to do with himself as Magnus slept, Alec began to unconsciously fidget – flattening his unruly bed hair, picking at the invisible lint on the sheets – before gingerly sliding off the bed with great care so as to not wake his sleeping companion. He pulled on a faded grey t-shirt and then extracted a small brown envelope from the top drawer of his window-side desk, eyeing it wearily as he turned it over and over between his fingers. The sound of Magnus rolling over startled him and he quickly dropped the envelope on the table and quietly slipped out of the room.

As with many antiquated structures, the hallway was dimly lit by a series of small torches along the wall, spaced out between the paintings – depictions of shadowhunter history – and antique decor that ranged from archaic suits of armour to medieval weaponry – each historic piece a labour of the Iron Sisters. Alec padded down the hallway, the floorboards creaking every few steps beneath his bare feet, as he made his way up to the attic in the hopes of burning off some of his energy.

The training room was empty and quiet. Switching on the lights, Alec expertly jumped onto one of the many beams suspended in the air; nearly all of his training had been done in this room and his every movement was muscle memory – every turn and flip was familiar to him. Aided by runes to give him perfect balance and body control, flipping from one beam to the next was as easy as taking a step. Jumping to the floor with a gentle thud, Alec picked up his training bow from the wall of weaponry, a quiver of arrows which he fastened across his back as well as a belt of daggers. Scattered across the room were targets – each mechanically attached to grooves in the wall that patterned up to ceiling, allowing the targets to be moved. He pressed a set of small square buttons on the wall, activating the targets before quickly checking his arrows and taking his place in the centre as the room quickly came to life.

Like a well-practiced routine, Alec had an arrow between his fingers and his bow drawn in an instant. He rolled and sidestepped mental obstructions, firing arrow after arrow – each hitting its mark, and switched with effortless fluidity to his daggers. He parried and thrusted, flicking a few with a quick snap of his wrist that sent them flying into the dead centre of a target in the far wall. Another dagger was immediately in his hands, and he thrusted out his hand and spun. He saw a blur of colour and froze, his body tensed as the tip of the dagger hovered perilously – inches away from Magnus' throat.

"By the angel," he breathed incredulously, moving back with unsteady steps. "I almost killed you."

Magnus seemed unfazed. He held up a piece of folded paper in his hand and narrowed his eyes. "What's this?"

Alec was blank for a second as his thoughts struggled to catch up. Then realisation hit him. "You went through my things?"

"It was on the table with my name on it. I'd hardly call that prying."

"It's a letter." He slowly lowered his hand. "Did you read it?"

He turned his back to Magnus, returning the dagger to his belt before disentangling himself from his gear. Mentally kicking himself, Alec bit his lip; he couldn't decide whether he was glad or horrified that Magnus had found the letter. The letter he'd written days after Magnus had left him in the darkness of the subway tunnel; the letter in which he'd poured his anguish, his gratefulness, his insecurities and his fears – all the words that he couldn't say out loud.

"Yes."

Alec nodded and turned around. "I was going to send it – but I didn't."

"Why not?"

He shrugged. "You said you never wanted to see me again. I didn't think it would've mattered."

"Alexander…" Magnus sighed as he covered his face with his hand and muttered under his breath, "You stupid  _nephilim_."

The flare of anger within Alec rose as quickly as it disappeared.

"I guess I am," he laughed to himself and then collapsed to the floor in exhaustion – his hands haphazardly thrown above his head, his eyes closed. He heard Magnus' muted footsteps at his side and was surprised by the sheer force as Magnus pulled him to his feet. There was a look of murderous conflict on Magnus' face that made Alec wince a little, but tired of being slave to his own emotions, he squared his shoulders and stared back in silent defiance.

Slowly, Magnus' piercing gaze softened. He reached out and – almost absently – ran his thumb over Alec's cheekbone. "You should have told me."

"If you want smart  _and_ well-spoken, Jace is downstairs, third door to the left."

Magnus laughed as he leaned in. "I don't think that would turn out well," he whispered before he kissed Alec.

Magnus' lips were soft and he tasted earthy and sweet. The scent of sandalwood enveloped him, and his knees began to tremble. The consequence of his relentless training, Alec told himself – he refused to believe that he was swooning.

"I  _am_  sorry," he whispered as they parted, his eyes searching Magnus' face. "For hurting you. For–"

Magnus pressed a his finger to Alec's lips, silencing him, and smiled softly. He held the folded letter between them and it hovered over his open palm before being enveloped in a ball of blue flames. "We both made mistakes."

Alec smiled ruefully.

"But there is something you got  _very wrong_ ," Magnus said sternly as he held Alec's face in both his hands.

"What?" Alec studied Magnus' face – his piercing golden-green cat-like eyes seemed to bore straight into him.

"You _, Alexander Gideon Lightwood_ ," Magnus said soberly. "Were never  _just another notch on my bedpost_ , as you so eloquently put." He closed the gap between them. "You've cut clean through."

Alec stared blankly. "What?"

"I meant when I said there is no  _next time_  for me," Magnus whispered. "You're all I want and could ever need."

"You can't be sure–"

"Yes." There was no uncertainty in Magnus' voice. "I'm sure."

Alec paled slightly, unsure of what to say.

"That's– I mean–" Alec stopped and swallowed, noticing for the first time that Magnus had changed into one of his old t-shirts and sweatpants which were a few inches too short, revealing Magnus' skinny ankles. "Okay."

He mentally kicked himself – for all that Magnus had said, the only word he could muster was  _okay_. He reached for Magnus and absent ran his thumb across the back of the warlock's hand in a poor attempt to hide whatever it was that always stopped him from saying something romantic, emotional or profound.

"Okay." Magnus smiled, almost knowingly, Alec thought.

He watched Magnus lift his hand and turned it so his palm was open and facing up, and then placed the hilt of a seraph blade squarely in his grasp. His eyes grew wide in confusion and he looked around the room as if waiting for a cue to a script he hadn't been given.

Magnus' eyes seemed to dance as he quickly backed away, rubbing his palms together like in prayer. He brought the tips of his pressed hands to his lips and blew. And like a fire breather, a jet of brilliant blue flame was expelled from the tip of his fingers. As he pulled his hand apart, the river splintered into smaller streams of fire from each of his fingers. Each stream soared through the air before crashing to the floor, seemingly at random, around Alec. Magnus blew out his fingers and the streams concentrated into bulbous masses before taking the form of their master. "I picked up this terrific little trick in a comic book," he said smugly. "I thought I'd help you train."

Alec, jaw-slacked, stared at the ten silhouettes of Magnus surrounding him – each of brilliant blue flame and smirking right back at him. He blinked and turned to the real Magnus. "You're kidding, right? I can't fight–" he gestured to Magnus and his blazing clones, "you."

"No…" Magnus furrowed his brows in thought for a moment. "I suppose not. Here." He snapped his fingers and each ablaze figure changed into Jace. "Marvellous!" he said brightly.

Alec stared in horror. The likeness of each figure was not unlike Jace – at least that's what he imagined Jace would look like if he'd ever decide to put on a leotard or a ballerina dress. He turned to the grinning warlock who was clearly more than amused with his own creation. "Magnus."

"Couldn't you  _just try_?"

Alec stifled a laugh as the figures began to twirl about him. "What exactly are you helping me train for?"

"Jace's coming out party?"

Alec stared at him incredulously. He was trying to be serious but something inside him suddenly ticked and he felt something begin to bubble up from within. The next thing he knew, he was clutching his sides in laugher and it felt like a weight he'd grown used to was lifted.

"I just wanted to see you laugh," Magnus said, smiling.

Alec blinked and Magnus was suddenly an inch away and they kissed, and he wondered how he was supposed to train with his brain so scrambled. When they pulled away, Magnus was back across the room, grinning back at him.

"Now," Magnus said loudly. He snapped his fingers and the dancing Jaces were instantly replaced by fiery ravener demons. Magnus raised a brow. "Better?"

"Much." Taking his position in the centre of the room, he scanned his surroundings and crouched slightly. " _Samandiriel,_ " he whispered and the seraph blade came to life in his hands. He rested the blade'stip on the floor and glanced quickly at Magnus, who winked and then clapped his hands. All around him, the demon clones roared with life and lunged at him – all at once. A hard kick to the floor and Alec was in the air, wielding  _Samandiriel's_  angelic glow like an extension of his arm.

Circling, Magnus found a support column in the south-end of the training room and dropped to the floor, crossing his long spindly legs as he conjured more flaming clones as he saw fit. Watching Alec dance about the room was like watching a pinball machine – only more graceful – as the shadowhunter flew floor-to-beam and beam-to-beam without the slightest hint of hesitation. Two minutes – or two hours, Magnus wasn't sure – passed and he was still smiling, the sound of Alec's laughter still ringing happily in his mind.

* * *

Alec breathed heavily as the exhausted two lay collapsed on the training room floor. His body felt like it weighed a tonne – he'd given up trying to push the hair plastered to his forehead out of his eyes. As his body began relax, he felt the tension slip away and his eyes drifted to a close.

"I still can't believe you set me on fire," Alec breathed – the edges to his sleeves and pants were singed black and there was a fist-sized hole in his shirt above his spleen.

Magnus grunted. "It was a reflex. Self-preservation – I'm allowed to do that when there's a sharp object barreling towards me."

" _You_ shouldn't have been standing there," Alec pointed out. He frowned and began to pat himself down again as if to make sure he was completely out.

"Alec, I've already apologised – twice."

With some effort, Alec rolled over and glared at his boyfriend. "You set me on  _fire_."


End file.
